Broken Ends
by Horrifying Lies
Summary: What will happen after Effy finds out the truth about Freddie?


Effy curled up in her bed, bringing the blanket to her neck. She stared at the wall, the only light in her room was from the moonlight peaking through the cracks of her curtains. It had been the fourth day with Freddy gone and it ate at her every hour. Sleep was no longer needed and alcohol became her only friend. She rolled onto her back, reaching her arm over and feeling around for her phone. When her fingers grazed the buttons, she grabbed it and brought it to her face. '3 Missed Calls' appeared on the screen. She rolled her eyes, pressing OK. They were all from Cook. Pressing the green phone, she held the celular device up to her ear and listened as rings played repeatedly.

"Hello? Effy?" he said. His voice sounded panicked and anxious, almost sad.

"Hi," she said, a small yawn escaping her lips after she spoke. His voice sent a sudden shock of anger to her spine.

"Listen, I need to talk to you, Eff."

Eff. As if that was much of a nickname. "Get on with it then."

"No, in person. It'd be better."

"I'm tired," she lied.

"Eff, come-"

"Talk to me tomorrow."

She hung up, placing her phone back onto the desk. She didn't want to hear from the guy who probably only wanted to shag now that Freddy was gone. She rolled her eyes even thinking about it. She was absolutely disgusted by Cook, but couldn't help feeling like she loved him, even if she told herself a million times she doesn't. He was the one who was just like her. The male version of herself. She had to keep him around. He almost kept her sane, even if all they did was party and shag, it still kept her mind off everything else.

Effy bit her lip, rolling back on to her side. It was the never ending cycle of newfound insomnia. Constant staring at objects in the dark until 3 AM, only to be woken up at 6, hot and worn out. Climbing out of bed, she headed for the bathroom, planting herself on the toilet. Opening the mirror cabinet, she downed a shot of smooth and dry Bacardi she kept hidden in an Asprin bottle. She turned on the shower, the sound of the water smacking against the bathtub floor echoed throughout the bathroom. Removing her clothes, she climbed in and sat down in the back of the tub, the water falling on her head. She leaned her head against the wall, the steam rising over her. She poured the shampoo into her hand and ran her fingers threw her hair gently before rinsing it out. After doing the same with conditioner and soap, she got out and headed for her room. Wrapping a towel around just her head, she threw on a black, lace bra, a lowcut, baggy shirt, and thong with jean shorts over it.

Effy finished drying off her hair before checking her phone. Cook again. Calling him once more, she held the phone up to her ear with a sigh.

"Meet me at my flat," he said, the same anxious tone as before. A sudden click followed by a dial tone rang in her ear.

Walking out the door, she started down the street, the bottom of her shoes tapping with every step. She turned the corner and cut through a back-alley leading to the center of town. As she crossed the street, she walked up to the brick building. She rang the buzzer for Cook's flats, the smell of fresh spray pant awakening her senses. The light shined green and the door unlocked. Opening it, she headed to the third floor, gently knocking on the door.

Cook took no time opening the door. "Hi," he said, stepping out of the way to let her inside.

Effy rolled up her sleeves, stepping in and sitting in the old, worn out couch. The moldy stench made her nose crinkle, but she overlooked it. "What did you have to tell me?"

Cook sat down next to her. He shook his knee up and down, scruntching his forehead, thinking. "Eff.. I - I don't want you to get upset," he said, a look in his eyes screamed 'this is going to upset you, but I don't want you to flip out for my sake'.

"Speak to me, Cook," she replied, a sudden urging tone in her voice.

"About Fred.. I - I know what happened to him."

"What? Where is he?" she asked, trying not to sound too anxious. He mumbled the next few words to her. She cocked an eyebrow, curious. "What?"

He was hesitant to speak. "A dumpster."

She stayed silent for a moment. "Stop fucking with me, Cook."

"I'm not!"

"This isn't a fucking game. Your best friend is missing and you think this is all a big joke! A dumpster? Is that seriously amusing to you? Grow up, Cook." She stood up, heading to the door.

"Effy, he's fucking dead!"

She turned to him, her eyes wide. A tear started to form as she tried to speak. "What?" 


End file.
